


Vemödalen

by cestmabiologie



Series: [prompted.] [5]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen, young Rachel Duncan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:44:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6866665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cestmabiologie/pseuds/cestmabiologie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Ethan Duncan + Vemödalen </p>
<p>(The frustration of photographing something amazing when thousands of identical photos already exist.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vemödalen

**I.**

 

“Smile, Rachel.”

Rachel looked up and smiled in the automatic, close-lipped way she did every time she saw her father with his camera. Ethan Duncan didn’t mind. Sunlight caught just so in the finest hairs that had escaped her neat braids. <Click!>

He turned the wheel to advance the film.

“Just one more.”

Rachel tilted her head, her six-year-old’s patience waning, but she stayed still. Ethan’s heart swelled. <Click!>

She was bright. She was beautiful. His Rachel. His perfect little girl.

  
II.

 

Ethan Duncan thumbed through his paperwork, documents, case studies, files. His heart always tripped when he came across a photograph, but it wasn’t always Rachel. Usually it wasn’t. Usually it was one of his others. Some were smiling and some were not and some wore faces too serious for little girls. They weren’t his Rachel but they were beautiful and they were perfect and he’d made them and they were his. There were so many of them and they were his.

He told himself that he could tell the difference.

 

**III.**

 

Ethan Duncan opens the envelope and takes out the photos from his last roll of film.

_Ah, there she is._ And there’s Rachel, hair dipped in sunlight, staring into the camera.

And she looks exactly like the others.

Ethan holds the photos up to the light. He tries to find that flint-and-steel raw love that sparks in his chest every time he looks at Rachel, but it isn’t there. It isn’t captured. On film, on paper, she’s just like the others.

But she’s his and he loves her.

He puts the photos away: one to an album and one to a file.


End file.
